The ropes have been unbound
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: He could just imagine the sweet reunion of old friends, of Padme and the aggravating head of the rebellion, Mothma. And the others… Was Organa there too? What about Kenobi? He could almost feel the way the conspirators would revel within one another, celebrating that Padme, at last, was free of him. Vaderdala AU. Suitless!Vader.


He knew the exact moment it happened. The _millisecond_.

It was a small warning, the shudder that crept its way along his spine through the thick dark cloak which surrounded his body. A whisper of the Force against his mind, quiet, but its words may well have been roared for the way they made him feel. The galaxy stilled, time seemed to freeze just for that one, terrible moment. The ship trembled beneath his boots, transparisteel quaked dangerously against the ship walls and the air seemed to turn colder against his skin, but he hardly noticed. For he _knew_. He felt it as it happened. And unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, for the fool whose throat he held in his force-grasp, it happened as Darth Vader dealt divine punishment.

He froze, as the ignorant commander squirmed before him, pleading for his insignificant life, and his lips twisted from a blank, empty, _emotionless_ slate, to anger. To the fury he'd come to depend upon for his very existence. It'd been ignited like never before.

Padme was _gone_.

She must have been planning this for some time now, the _traitor_ that she was. Counting the moments until he left her alone within the walls of the Imperial palace for one of the Emperor's missions so she could leave him. He knew of her ties to those within the Rebellion, but had looked the other way. Her fiery rebellious spirit had always had a way of making Vader's hollow, rotten heart pulse just a little quicker in his chest. She was exciting. She made him want and long and amongst the blackest fury… She inspired hatred and yearning and admiration and the vilest of all things, _love_ , within him.

Vader's hand tightened its invisible grip upon his latest victim's throat. He was not oblivious to the carefully hidden horror that swirled around inside the heads of the men who witnessed this. No one dared speak out, however. No one dared be next. It lasted only another moment or two, before slowly; the Sith Lord began to loosen the choke, to the confusion of all around. When this happened, no one lived to tell the tale usually. _Usually._

But his mind is somewhere else. He could just imagine the _sweet_ reunion of old friends, of Padme and the aggravating head of the rebellion, Mothma. And the others… Was Organa there too? What about _Kenobi_? He could almost _feel_ the way the conspirators would revel within one another, celebrating that Padme, at last, was free of him.

It made Vader sick.

And without a single word, he dropped the ignorant imbecile to the ground and turned on his heel toward the door. _Let him live for now._ There were more important matters he had to take care of.

He did not like anyone taking what belonged to him. Or losing what belonged to him. The people within the Rebellion held far too much of Padme's heart for Vader's liking. They always had. It was dangerous from the start, he'd known it. The Emperor had warned him against it. But, he was a fool and trusted her to stay.

 _Why_?

Because, Darth Vader was pathetically, wholly attached to the Senator and had tied his soul to hers very long time ago. His one true weakness. His only love. And he'd hated her for it, right from the start of all this, he loathed the threat of her, the _power_ she held over him. She was in his very soul. And all because of the taste of her kisses, the tender touches and aggressive passion he'd awoken within her. He brought her to _life._ And she kept awake part of him that should have burned a very long time ago. He would not let her go.

For one single moment, he considered taking his ship and hunting the rebels down, night and day, until he found her again. He'd tear her from their base and back to him then and there no matter how long it took to come across wherever they hid. _No matter how long…_ It'd been four years since that disloyal organisation rose against the Empire, and still he had been unable to locate them. It could take him a lifetime to find her now, too.

A part of him clenched suddenly, at the idea. An entire lifetime without Padme Amidala… She could live a life without him, find another to love, someone else to kiss and touch and warm her bed. The imaginary image of that, of Padme in the embrace of another tore a bitterly jealous growl from between the Sith's teeth and he reached back to tug on his hood to protect his face from the Emperor's spies and security cams. He need not know just yet what had happened.

Suddenly, he paused in the sterile hallway and a slow, dangerous grin spread its way across his lips. _Fine then._ If she wanted to be chased, he was going to hunt her to the darkest, most desolate corners of the galaxy until she could hide from him no more. The chase would tear away at her until what remained? Until she came back to him and shaking and desperate and ready to surrender herself to him once again. _Forever._

Darth Vader was arrogant. Deeply, corrupted by the darkness of his own power. Enough so, to believe that Padme _would_ come back to him… He was her salvation, her love, her everything. As she was his. He held absolute faith in only two things in the whole galaxy, the Force, and that there was no better life for Padme Amidala than by his side. It was her fate. Their destiny to belong to each other.

But, in his arrogance, what Vader could not – _would not allow himself to_ – see was the allure of the light. He had not felt it in so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to not dance in the dark. The warmth of goodness was powerful. Kindness, compassion, they held a potential, a _strength_ he could no longer muster. It was something Darth Vader couldn't understand, or ever hope to again. But once _did_. A long time ago. When a man by a different name ruled his mind, who believed that compassion was the truest form of love. That was what had drawn Padme to him; he just would not allow himself to remember.

He was no longer that man. He, unlike Skywalker, – for that was the name that had once held meaning to him –could not refuse power, especially the power of the Dark Side. Why should he resist? He, the most powerful being to ever life, he who had been the _Chosen One_ , should have everything he desired and more.

But what he could not see beyond the smog of darkness that clouded his mind as he stormed through the still in progress superweapon of his Master, of the _Deathstar,_ was that the very same tight grip he held Padme to him with, was the very reason she'd planned to run. He'd frightened her with it endlessly, unknowingly so. That hold was a danger to her, and it would become a danger to the precious life she carried within her. So she ran.

 _That_ was what Darth Vader couldn't see as he climbed into his fighter and typed the coordinates for the Imperial Centre as the glass hub fell closed above him. He would go there, to where she'd last been… And he would work toward finding her.

He flew through Hyperspace for _hours_ without even a flicker of sense of the passing time; his determination was too strong. _The sooner he was there, the sooner he could find her._ Every moment he wasn't there, was another moment Padme had to move further from his gaze – she could be halfway across the galaxy by now and he'd never know it. His chance of catching her quickly grew lesser by the second, and not even the Force could spare him from that. Stars stretched into long lines of glittering light before him, but the Sith paid the sight no mind at all. He only saw _her_ … Her intoxicating eyes, the warmth of her smile… He could hear the music of her laugh in his eyes and only tensed further into his seat.

The very moment the cockpit opened as he landed by the Imperial Palace, Vader leapt out of the seat and left the ship in the care of the nearest Stormtrooper and took off. Protocol said that he must greet the Emperor upon his return – even if said return was a week earlier than scheduled – but he forgot. There was only one thing on his mind, _Padme. Padme. Padme._ Cruelly, a part of him whispered that maybe he was wrong… Maybe she _was_ here, awaiting him as always…

But he was _right._

The doors slid open and he raced inside, not bothering to rid himself of his cloak. Room after room of the expansive apartment the Emperor had provided them proved themselves to be empty… There was nothing. The rooms were full of expensive, luxurious possessions ordered by the Emperor and placed around by Padme. Vases were as he left them, portraits, chairs, tables… Everything was the same, and yet the most important piece of this place, the _home_ they'd built together, was gone.

 _She_ was gone.

And he roared her name as loudly as his lungs could bear as if she may hear him and return.

She didn't.

He should never have left her here. The rebellious fire he so loved to stoke had finally blazed over and it was _his fault._ He should have _known_ something like this was going to happen – why hadn't he dreamt it? He could have taken her with him… Why had he been so foolish?

He knew why. Vader knew _exactly_ why. The answer? As he fell to his knees in a lake of black cloth, body trembling and skin prickling without her presence, battling the unwanted, furious stinging in his eyes, he _understood_.

His leaving Padme behind hadn't been a gesture of trust, but a test. Because, truly, he wanted her to choose him. He wanted her to _want_ him, to stay _with_ him. More than anything, that was what Vader desired. Her choice. To have Padme chose to stay with him and accept the crown he'd so gladly carve out for her. He'd overthrow the Emperor in her name if that was what she desired of him… He'd make her Empress and sit her upon the throne.

But she _hadn't_ chosen Vader. He'd offered her a chance and she used it to flee from him while his eyes were elsewhere.

And on his knees on the cold marble floor, Vader's jaw fell loose as he let out a long, broken cry. Howling for his missing mate. He screamed and cried until his throat grew dry and ached and the palace shook with in a way only that distressed many as the Force coiled itself tightly around him. Paintings fell from their walls and priceless vases shattered to dust on the floor but Vader didn't notice.

 _She was gone._

 _She was gone._

 _She was gone._

 _She left you._

The darkness hissed the words as the warmth of grief wet his cheeks.

He was going to find her. He'd turn the entire galaxy upside down if he had to… Blood would flow along the streets, leaving a planet full of corpses in his wake until Vader had her back, he swore it to the very Force. His fingers curled into tight fists against the marble and his lips peeled back for the sharp edges of his teeth to gleam dangerously. He _would_ have her back, by the Force she'd be back. And then he'd _make_ her stay if need be.

But it was only now, at his most broken and weakest moment, when he looked upon their empty bed, that Vader _realised_ just what he'd lost. And a very small part of him, deeply buried beneath layers of dark rage and seething determination, feared that he may never have it back again.


End file.
